Behind Shattered Windows Lay a Shattered Soul
by strangled lies
Summary: Harry bears burdens greater than we know. When he is pushed to the limit, how can he cope? When the unexpected happens, his savior delivers refuge. HD SLASH; abuse and cutting warning.
1. Set Me Off

Well, a few mistakes I realized along the way…A) How did Harry use the silencing charm in the muggle world? I'm thinking he used it once or twice, then learned to control himself, in some, Harry Potter-ish way…don't ask…B) Why did Draco call Harry "Harry" when he said, "Couldn't be your godfather, Sirius, could it, **Harry?**" I dunno…dramatic stuff? It'll come in soon…I…think…on then! OH YEA! And sorry aboutt the year that he wrote the poem…I don't feel like working out when 7th yr. is…

When we last saw our favorite characters…

                "Maybe so. Answer me this, Potter. Do you miss your godfather? Do you still feel the need to hear about your dead mum and dad who're never coming back?"

              The room was silent with tension. That was it. Draco had gone too far. That was the worst he'd ever been, to anyone. Every Gryffindor was seething with hate right now. Except Harry. Harry was ready to let everything out. And now was the time.  
              "Only as much as you feel the need to tell yourself that you have competent parents, Malfoy." Harry retorted.

              At this, Draco angrily strode to Harry's side, a dangerous glare in his eyes. But being so close to the boy, harry saw that there was desperation and fear there, too.

              "Don't you _dare_ make any kind of remarks about my family, Potter. You're an indecent, worthless waste of air and space and time. What a coincidence that no one needs you here anymore. We all _know_ who's going to win the final war, don't we, Potter? Yet, you and I _both_ know that you'll still go the same way as your good for nothing parents, and that dirty, guilty git, Sirius B—"

              "He was _INNOCENT!_" Harry yelled, furious, and cutting Malfoy off. There were tears on the brink of his eyes, threatening to spill at any given moment. Malfoy didn't seem to hear or notice Harry, and continued.

              "Haven't you noticed that no one commends you on anything but your narrow defeats or escapes from the Dark Lord? You're the world's shield, and that's all you'll ever be, Potter. That is _ALL_ you'll ever be to _me_ or anyone with half a brain." Malfoy said, a scary calm in his voice.

              Yet, correction. THIS was the worst that Malfoy'd ever been.

              Malfoy knew that the moment those words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. He meant and felt _none_ of that. But then why'd he said it? 

              Harry knew there were tears under his eyes. But now, he really had to let go. Especially with Snape gone. Now he could finally get out of the lie of a life he was living.

              "I know that Malfoy. I know that more than you, or Ron, or Hermione, or Lucius or Voldermort could ever know." Harry choked through tears, in the strongest voice he could find.

              "Harry, don't you DARE say that! You're no—" Hermione began.

              Harry shook his head violently to silent her.

              "I knew I was worthless by the time I could _talk_, Malfoy."

              "Potter, stop trying to get people to pity you. You think you and your whole clan are so strong? _Black_ wasn't so strong when he snuffed it, eh? He was an old fraud. He made you believe he was innocent. He should've just killed himself before. It'd have been easier for—"

              "Don't you _dare_ make _any_  kind of joke about Sirius or suicide _ever again,_ got that Malfoy?" Harry bellowed, wand at Malfoy's throat, pinning him against the wall, with a wild rage burning in his eyes. Harry backed away slowly, never taking his eyes off of Malfoy's.

              "_THIS_ is how I knew, and will _ALWAYS_ know that I'm here for you, your families, your friends, and that only." Harry gestured to the rest of the dungeon, who had their eyes on the two up front. "I AM a waste of space, time, and air, and I won't be going the same way as my parents – not if _I_ have anything to do with it, anyway. I'm not even good enough for _that_, and I know it. I'll end it all _my_ way, and it's not too far off, if _this_ keeps up."

              "What in the bloody hell are you talking about, Potter?" Draco inquired, bewildered.

              "This," Harry spat. He muttered a spell, the Transparency Spell – _Fabricus Transcadus_ – which made his robes, undershirt, and slacks disappear, leaving him in only boxers. No one made any immature remarks or noises, because Harry didn't seem to be finished. He then whispered the Anti Glamour Spell – _Vosica epidech_ –, which would show all bruises, cuts, or mark on his body that was either caused by himself or another being.

              For five seconds, Harry's body was covered in countless scars, bruises, cuts, gashes, and marks, but after a hard look of concentration on his face, only the bruises were left.

              "This is what life has dragged me down to." Harry spoke as clear as possible.

              While Ron stared from his seat, Hermione made her way to Harry and Malfoy, whose eyes were filled with an unreadable emotion.

              "H—Harry. . . Who did this to you?"

              Harry's eyes once again met the floor.

              "My—My uncle and Dudley. Yeah. My uncle and Dudley."  
              "But Harry, it's the middle of the year – how could your Uncle and Cousin—" Ron was shut up by a look from Hermione. She seemed absolutely terrified, so Ron _Accio_-ed her back to her seat. The whole class sat in silence for 3 more minutes or so, when more bruises appeared. Harry's knees bucked underneath him from the now visible whip and belt marks on his legs. With much struggle, Harry stood up.

              "I'm going. Don't ask where, don't follow me, don't look for me, don't try to use the Map," he looked towards Ron and Hermione, "and don't expect me to come back. I don't want to come back. I don't want to die in the hands of a prophecy so I'll do it my way. You know, I've kept a journal since I was 9. I got this notebook on my 9th birthday, and that's probably the best present the Dursleys have ever given me. Then after I came to Hogwarts, I conjured my own one that never ran out of paper. And I don't need it anymore. I've written stories, poems, songs, and so many things that remind me of my past. . ." Harry had a thoughtful look on his face before _Accio_-ing a tattered book, and muttering a counter spell for a Locking Charm. "Go ahead. Read it," he said, and threw it at Ron, who caught it reluctantly. "Show Hermione, show Neville, show your brothers, show your mum and dad, show Ginny, show Malfoy. He should see it, more importantly then any of you. Hell, show Dumbledore. I don't care. I stopped caring a long time ago." Harry finished, tears now flowing freely yet silently down his ivory face.

              Harry walked over so that he was face to face with Malfoy.

              "I hope you know, that after all you've done—all the times that you've made my friends' lives miserable—I don't hate you. I _loathe _you," Harry said with venom, but really with a hint of desperation that no one else hear. No one but Draco. "I loathe you for messing everything up, and I loathe you for never showing your true self, and never letting anyone in. And I _know_ what's behind you. I _see_ how you cringe. But that doesn't matter anymore. I loathe you with a passion that's driven me to death." 

              The slight gasp that followed came from a teary eyed Hermione. She'd known something was wrong with Harry lately…Since the day after Sirius' death, Harry had been withdrawn from the world. Everyday after dinner, which he came to about 2 times a week, he would go out to the lake and sit under a weeping willow tree. Now she knew that he wasn't doing homework, but writing in that journal . . . about Godric knows what . . .He was never in the common room unless going out or coming in, and couldn't be found in the library or in the dorms. She suspected he was outside at the lake, and didn't want to interfere. She thought it was just a phase . . .He _had_ just lost Sirius, after all . . But lately, she'd been talking to him. Saying hello and such, but he'd just raise his head and nod at her. Ron told her that he cast silencing charms on his bed at night after Dean had complained about Harry whimpering during a nightmare. _He hasn't smiled in ages . . .not a **real** smile, anyway_, Hermione thought. 

              Harry muttered a spell, collecting his bad and grabbing the rose that he'd started off with. He dashed past the bewildered Snape in the doorway, and into the unknown. Where Harry had just stood, were these floating words:

**You can see the journey he's been through in his eyes**

**That saddened look on his face is from all the good-byes**

**I really don't know much about him, he keeps to himself**

**I see him quite often, but not with anyone else**

**He sits under the same tree, writing in that same book**

**Everyday I say hello, and he presents nothing but a look**

**I wonder of his troubles and I wonder of his dreams,**

**I'd like to think his aloneness isn't as severe as it seems**

**He sits there so lonely, yet with so much grace**

**I'd give anything to see a smile emerge from his face**

**I can almost bet the nights are hardest on his thoughts**

**Whoever he wears that frown for, I can tell he misses lots**

**How can someone so beautiful, give in so easily?**

**He seems so fragile as he rests there meekly.  
If only I could make for him time stand still**

**He won't have to waste his days waiting for wounds to heal**

**I look up from the reflection to find I am all alone,**

**Then devastatingly I realize these thoughts are all my own.**

HJP – 7/31/97 

              Hermione was devastated herself, seeing as how the poem mirrored her thoughts. She finally spoke up.

              "He wrote that—He wrote that on his _birthday_. His—his _birthday_ for Godric's sake . . ."

              But as soon as the words had left her mouth, another poem appeared.

**Look me in the eyes,  
Tell me all the truth.  
All you're afraid of,  
All I should fear.  
You don't know.  
You can't.  
You shouldn't  
You won't.  
I'd never tell you,  
You'd never understand.  
Leave me to myself,  
I seem to have faired well enough so far,  
Why not let me reside  
In the darkness forever more?**

HJP – 7/14/96 

              The tension in the air was thick, and no one really understood what the last poem meant. Except for Draco and Severus, who was standing in the doorway, not blinking. This was worse than he'd thought.

              "Do you think he's gone to—" Hermione stated to no one in particular.

              "—Commit suicide? I think so." Draco supplied. He turned to a shocked Snape.

              "Professor, May I have permission to follow him?"

              "Yes, Draco." Snape leaned close. "Don't be harsh. Don't be his enemy. Be what he needs you to be, whatever that may be itself." Draco nodded, understanding.

              Once out the door, Draco went upstairs. His first thought was jumping off a tower…_The __Astronomy__Tower__!_ He hurried, hoping that Harry do anything . . . rash yet.

              He finally reached the tower door, deciding to do whatever it takes to save potter. Before walking in, he muttered "_exilparent__ teperal_," an invisibility spell he'd learned from his father.

              Slipping into the tower as silently as possible, Draco found that he wasn't prepared for what he saw in front of him.  
  
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!****


	2. Screams from the Inside Released Out

Well, a few mistakes I realized along the way…A) How did Harry use the silencing charm in the muggle world? I'm thinking he used it once or twice, then learned to control himself, in some, Harry Potter-ish way…don't ask…B) Why did Draco call Harry "Harry" when he said, "Couldn't be your godfather, Sirius, could it, **Harry?**" I dunno…dramatic stuff? It'll come in soon…I…think…on then! OH YEA! and sry abt the year that he wrote the poem…I dun feel like working out when 7th yr. is…

When we last saw our favorite characters…

"Maybe so. Answer me this, Potter. Do you miss your godfather? Do you still feel the need to hear about your dead mum and dad who're never coming back?"

The room was silent with tension. That was it. Draco had gone too far. That was the worst he'd ever been, to anyone. Every Gryffindor was seething with hate right now. Except Harry. Harry was ready to let everything out. And now was the time.  
"Only as much as you feel the need to tell yourself that you have competent parents, Malfoy." Harry retorted.

At this, Draco angrily strode to Harry's side, a dangerous glare in his eyes. But being so close to the boy, harry saw that there was desperation and fear there, too.

"Don't you _dare_ make any kind of remarks about my family, Potter. You're an indecent, worthless waste of air and space and time. What a coincidence that no one needs you here anymore. We all _know_ who's going to win the final war, don't we, Potter? Yet, you and I _both_ know that you'll still go the same way as your good for nothing parents, and that dirty, guilty git, Sirius B—"

"He was _INNOCENT!_" Harry yelled, furious, and cutting Malfoy off. There were tears on the brink of his eyes, threatening to spill at any given moment. Malfoy didn't seem to hear or notice Harry, and continued.

"Haven't you noticed that no one commends you on anything but your narrow defeats or escapes from the Dark Lord? You're the world's shield, and that's all you'll ever be, Potter. That is _ALL_ you'll ever be to _me_ or anyone with half a brain." Malfoy said, a scary calm in his voice.

Yet, correction. THIS was the worst that Malfoy'd ever been.

Malfoy knew that the moment those words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back. He meant and felt _none_ of that. But then why'd he said it? 

Harry knew there were tears under his eyes. But now, he really had to let go. Especially with Snape gone. Now he could finally get out of the lie of a life he was living.

"I know that Malfoy. I know that more than you, or Ron, or Hermione, or Lucius or Voldermort could ever know." Harry choked through tears, in the strongest voice he could find.

"Harry, don't you DARE say that! You're no—" Hermione began.

Harry shook his head violently to silent her.

"I knew I was worthless by the time I could _talk_, Malfoy."

"Potter, stop trying to get people to pity you. You think you and your whole clan are so strong? _Black_ wasn't so strong when he snuffed it, eh? He was an old fraud. He made you believe he was innocent. He should've just killed himself before. It'd have been easier for—"

"Don't you DARE make ANY kind of joke about Sirius OR suicide EVER AGAIN, GOT THAT MALFOY?" Harry bellowed, wand at Malfoy's throat, pinning him against the wall, with a wild rage burning in his eyes. Harry backed away slowly, never taking his eyes off of Malfoy's.

"_THIS_ is how I knew, and will _ALWAYS_ know that I'm here for you, your families, your friends, and that only." Harry gestured to the rest of the dungeon, who had their eyes on the two up front. "I AM a waste of space, time, and air, and I won't be going the same way as my parents – not if _I_ have anything to do with it, anyway. I'm not even good enough for _that_, and I know it. I'll end it all _my_ way, and it's not too far off, if _this_ keeps up." Harry's eyes flickered over to Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle, but before anyone else could see.

"What in the bloody hell are you talking about, Potter?" Draco inquired, bewildered.

"This," Harry spat. He muttered a spell, the Transparency Spell – Fabricus Transcadus – which made his robes, undershirt, and slacks disappear, leaving him in only boxers. No one made any immature remarks or noises, because Harry didn't seem to be finished. He then whispered the Anti Glamour Spell – Vosica epidech –, which would show all bruises, cuts, or mark on his body that was either caused by himself or another being.

For five seconds, Harry's body was covered in countless scars, bruises, cuts, gashes, and marks, but after a hard look of concentration on his face, only the bruises were left.

"This is what life has dragged me down to." Harry spoke as clear as possible.

While Ron stared from his seat, Hermione made her way to Harry and Malfoy, whose eyes were filled with an unreadable emotion.

"H—Harry. . . Who did this to you?"

Harry's eyes once again met those of Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle, and yet again, no one noticed.

"My—My uncle and Dudley. Yeah. My uncle and Dudley." 

Hermione looked terrified, so Ron _Accio_-ed her back to her seat. The whole class sat in silence for 3 more minutes or so, when more bruises appeared. Harry's knees bucked underneath him from the now visible whip and belt marks on his legs. With much struggle, Harry stood up.

"I'm going. Don't ask where, don't follow me, don't look for me, don't try to use the Map," he looked towards Ron and Hermione, "and don't expect me to come back. I don't want to come back. I don't want to die in the hands of a prophecy so I'll do it my way. You know, I've kept a journal since I was 9. I got this notebook on my 9th birthday, and that's probably the best present the Dursleys have ever given me. Then after I came to Hogwarts, I conjured my own one that never ran out of paper. And I don't need it anymore. I've written stories, poems, songs, and so many things that remind me of my past. . ." Harry had a thoughtful look on his face before _Accio_-ing a tattered book, and muttering a counter spell for a Locking Charm. "Go ahead. Read it," he said, and threw it at Ron, who caught it reluctantly. "Show Hermione, show Neville, show your brothers, show your mum and dad, show Ginny, show Malfoy. He should see it, more importantly then any of you. Hell, show Dumbledore. I don't care. I stopped caring a long time ago." Harry finished, tears now flowing freely yet silently down his ivory face.

Harry walked over so that he was face to face with Malfoy.

"I hope you know, that after all you've done—all the times that you've made my friends' lives miserable—I don't hate you. I _loathe _you," Harry said with venom, but really with a hint of desperation that no one else hear. No one but Draco. "I loathe you for messing everything up, and I loathe you for never showing your true self, and never letting anyone in. And I _know_ what's behind you. I _see_ how you cringe. But that doesn't matter anymore. I loathe you with a passion that's driven me to _death_." 

The gasp that followed came from a teary eyed Hermione. She'd known something was wrong with Harry lately…Since the day after Sirius' death, Harry had been withdrawn from the world. Everyday after dinner, which he came to about 2 times a week, he would go out to the lake and sit under a weeping willow tree. Now she knew that he wasn't doing homework, but writing in that journal . . . about Godric knows what . . .He was never in the common room unless going out or coming in, and couldn't be found in the library or in the dorms. She suspected he was outside at the lake, and didn't want to interfere. She thought it was just a phase . . .He _had_ just lost Sirius, after all . . But lately, she'd been talking to him. Saying hello and such, but he'd just raise his head and nod at her. Ron told her that he cast silencing charms on his bed at night after Dean had complained about Harry whimpering during a nightmare. _He hasn't smiled in ages . . .not a **real** smile, anyway_, Hermione thought. 

Harry muttered a spell, collecting his bad and grabbing the rose that he'd started off with. He dashed past the bewildered Snape in the doorway, and into the unknown. Where Harry had just stood, were these floating words:

****

You can see the journey he's been through in his eyes

That saddened look on his face is from all the good-byes

I really don't know much about him, he keeps to himself

I see him quite often, but not with anyone else

He sits under the same tree, writing in that same book

Everyday I say hello, and he presents nothing but a look

I wonder of his troubles and I wonder of his dreams,

I'd like to think his aloneness isn't as severe as it seems

He sits there so lonely, yet with so much grace

I'd give anything to see a smile emerge from his face

I can almost bet the nights are hardest on his thoughts

Whoever he wears that frown for, I can tell he misses lots

How can someone so beautiful, give in so easily?

He seems so fragile as he rests there meekly.  
If only I could make for him time stand still

He won't have to waste his days waiting for wounds to heal

I look up from the reflection to find I am all alone,

Then devastatingly I realize these thoughts are all my own.

__

HJP – 7/31/97 

Hermione was devastated herself, seeing as how the poem mirrored her thoughts. She finally spoke up.

"He wrote that—He wrote that on his _birthday_. His—his _birthday_ for Godric's sake . . ."

But as soon as the words had left her mouth, another poem appeared.

****

Red ribbons decorate cream lengths

Flowing freely down to the frozen floor

A body, torn in half, innocence ripped from its soul

Laying in the thick layer of white ice

Twisted, wrenched, cold, tangled

The ribbons wrap themselves around the whole of the pale model

All innocence lost, taken from one heart, brought into another's

Unwillingly, at that. Repeatedly, at that.

Yet deservingly, at that.

__

HJP – 7/14/96

The tension in the air was thick, and no one really understood what the last poem meant. Except for Draco and Hermione.

"Do you think he's gone to—" Hermione stated to no one in particular.

"—Commit suicide? I think so." Draco supplied. He turned to a shocked Snape.

"Professor, May I have permission to follow him?"

"Yes, Draco." Snape leaned close. "Don't be harsh. Don't be his enemy. Be what he needs you to be, whatever that may be itself." Draco nodded, understanding.

Once out the door, Draco went upstairs. His first thought was jumping off a tower…_The Astronomy Tower!_ He hurried, hoping that Harry – _his_ harry, the harry that although he tortured, wanted more then anything to be his – didn't do anything . . . rash yet.

He finally reached the tower door, deciding to do whatever it takes to save potter. Before walking in, he muttered "exilparent teperal," an invisibility spell he'd learned from his father.

Slipping into the tower as silently as possible, Draco found that he wasn't prepared for what he saw in front of him.  
  
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!


	3. Thankful

NOTE!!! Yes, I wrote the poems myself, but the first one was based on another one I've read, and the second one is a poem out of experience. We can just leave it at that I haven't had the perfect life, ok?

NOTE!! When "I'm going out for 10 minutes, I expect no disruptions" was said, IT WAS SNAPE! And he was going to DumblyDore to tell him about his suspicions for Golden Boy. That might clarify some things in this chapter…

ON WE GO!

Slipping into the tower as silently as possible, Draco found that he wasn't prepared for what he saw in front of him. 

There was Harry Potter, Gryffindor Golden Boy, Savior of the Wizarding and Muggle World, leaning into the corner of a wall, sobbing. (AN: I know that you'd thing a tower wouldn't have walls, but once you come out of the doorway, I've always imagined there being two corners to the left and right of it – oh NEVERMIND! Its just how I saw it, so bear with me!) He slid down the wall, clutching his hair in his hands, knuckles white.

"Fucking – God dammit – c-cant – fucking t-take this…" he choked.

Draco watched helplessly for 10 minutes as Harry Potter cried heart-wrenching sobs.

_Should I show myself?_ Draco thought. _Of course not! He'd hex me halfway to Sunday, up ,down, and sideways, then back again!_ Wanting to comfort Harry more then he thought possible, he stood barely five feet away from him. Suddenly, the door opened. 

"Harry." Dumbledore's voice came. Harry looked up, astonished and ashamed.

"P-Professor – I'm so sorry – I'll go." Harry began to get up, but was helpless, his legs still aching.

"No need, dear boy. I've heard all about the episode in the Potions dungeons. I dare say that I've been expecting something like this for a while, and it's all for the best that it happens now." Harry was about to speak when Dumbledore continued. "I have something for you. You already know how to work it, but this one is special."

And then there was the Penesive (spelling?).

Dumbledore handed Harry a beautiful bowl, with roses and lilies painted onto the side. There were some small imperfections, scratches, and chips along it, but it was beautiful none the less. 

"Pro—Professor – I can't . . ."

"Yes, Harry. You can. And you must. I've already arranged some things for you, regarding your situation—"

"Please, sir, but is there any way that I can stay – well – invisible, and go to classes anyway?"

"Yes, Harry. I understand that you have an Invisibility Cloak, and I think it'd be best if you kept to yourself for as long as you need to. You may go to classes and copy the same notes as everyone else, but you wont be able to do the experiments, obviously. As for food and quarters," Dumbledore said, noting how Harry was about to speak, "I've already arranged that. There is a room not to far from here where you can get to. It's behind a very old portrait, and only you can have the password. A house elf will bring you food." Sorrow filled his large eyes. "Harry, I'm worried about you, but you may stay in that room for as long as needed, just keep up your marks, please. The professors will be notified. And I do have a great and largely important matter to discuss with you."

As if on cue, Remus Lupin walked in. Yet upon seeing Harry's distraught state, he rushed to his side.

"Harry! Oh Harry, are you all right?"

"Yeah, Professor Lu—"

"Remus. Call me Remus, okay?"

"Sure. I-I'm fine." Remus smiled sadly.

"Well, I know you're not, and we'll talk about it later, but there _IS_ something that would make you much happier – even thought I have NO clue what it is, Dumbledore seemed very confident!" 

"Remus, please, control yourself. And yes, Harry, we will have to speak later. Do you remember the events of last year?"

_How could I NOT,_ Harry thought. _My godfather died, like I'll forget that really quick. Sure._

Harry nodded dumbly.

"After the Ministry declared the Department of Mysteries safe again – to some extent – I went down there on some personal matters. Now, seeing as how you've matured, I think it's only fair to tell you that I lost my wife, Anne, daughter, Serinta, and son, Jason to the Mr. Tom Riddle. I've learned much from those experiences, and over the course of 15 years, I – and many others – have been working on a spell that can bring back someone's body and soul."

Harry was dumbfounded, as was Draco in the corner where he now resided.

"I cannot supply you with much explanation, for some of these things are personal, but upon long decision, I've brought you a companion to stay with you while you remain invisible."

"Professor – Remus – if you can bring someone back to this world, then what about –"

"Your parents have been deceased for too long to resurrect them. That was Remus' first choice, also. I'm sorry."

"N-No, it's okay. But Remus – wouldn't you want to bring back S-Sirius?" Harry was somewhat confused.

Remus knelt next to Harry who was still in the corner.

"Sirius and I were best of friends, and I thought it'd be selfish to think of myself before you who needs your parents more then anything."

"Wow, Remus. That's – that's the best thing anyone's ever done for me…" Harry looked back at Dumbledore with sad eyes. "So who could you bring back?"

And the door opened again.


	4. Gift of Reunion

Last Chapter…

"Wow, Remus. That's – that's the best thing anyone's ever done for me…" Harry looked back at Dumbledore with sad eyes. "So who could you bring back?"

And the door opened again.

Harry went pale. Then back to his normal color. Then pale again. He blinked. And blinked again.

"You're absolutely fucking kidding me."

The Headmaster seemed to not mind this comment, and instead said, "Harry, I cannot begin to fathom the hurt that you've been through, and as you know, every person who has died at the hands of Voldemort or a Death Eater and so forth goes through the veil, so –" 

He was cut off by the sounds of two people crying. And there in front of them, embracing like there was no tomorrow, was Harry Potter and Sirius Black. Harry's hands were holding on so tightly to Sirius it looked like it hurt, but Sirius didn't seem to feel a thing. They were both weeping heavily, out of pure joy.

"Harry, I'm so sorry I ever left you. I was just taunting her and I was practically asking for it, and I'm really, _really_ so-" Sirius stopped short at the sight of his godson when he pulled away from the hug.

Harry's hair was still matted and all over the place, but his face was tearstained all over. His eyes shone widely with nothing but love. He was all pure, raw emotion at that moment.

"Sirius. I—I don't know a thing about what's going on right now, except that since you d-died, I've been falling into this pit of depression. I've been to the Great Hall for dinner about 2 times a week, and even when I'm there, I don't eat and I only stay for a few minutes and I haven't _slept_ properly since the day – well, you know – and Headmaster," Harry said, turning to Dumbledore, "if this is a prank of bad taste, I advise you put a silencing charm on me now, because I will be cursing so badly –"

"I assure you, Mr. Potter, that this is no bad prank. Either way, that would be Mr. Lupin's department! But yes, we've brought Mr. Black back to his full body and soul. And – Sirius?"

Sirius was staring intently at Harry and Remus, back and forth.

"I don't know who to hug first." Harry was shocked for a second, but then motioned to Remus. Sirius ran over to his best friend, and wasted no time with words. Remus was now crying into Sirius' shoulder, more so than Harry had been. 

Harry sat down in his corner again, eyes wide and focused on the floor. He tuned out to the apologies and greetings that were going on and just focused. _Focus. This isn't a dream. I swear. If it is, I'm going to tie Dumbledore to a Quidditch post and let out the bludgers on him._ Harry looked up form the floor to see Sirius kneeling next to him.

"Hey, kiddo. I know this is really a lot for you to realize right now," he sniffed, "but, I just want to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't take you in 16 years ago, I'm sorry I didn't stay in hiding better, I'm sorry I didn't tell you enough about your parents, I'm sorry I talked and didn't listen to you, and I'm sorry for ever getting you into this whole mess. If I had just taken the job as Secret Keeper, then –"

"Sirius Black don't you _dare_ finish that sentence! Every single_ bit_ of this is Peter Pettifuck's fault, and if you tell me otherwise, I'll tie _YOU _to a Quidditch post and let the bludgers after _YOU_!"

"Wait –who else are you doing that to?"

"Oh – wait – nevermind. Just – just promise me, you'll never do something so – so _marauder-ish_ like taunting a psyco-crazy-killer-cousin again – please…I really need a godfather…"  
"And you'll always have one," Sirius finished. "Were you really that depressed?" His voice turned gentler.

"You have no clue." Harry's eyes looked into Sirius', and were filled with complete and utter honesty. "You were the only family I had left, and then you were just – gone. I mean, the Weasleys and Hermione are all really great, but it's not the same." He looked down again.

"You – you really think I'm family?"

"More then _anyone_, Sirius! You were my father's other half, blood brother – you were everything to him, next to my mum and Remus. You're everything to me, too, Sirius. I have no other family – " Harry trailed off.

"And the Dursleys are . . .?"

Sirius saw Harry automatically shudder at the name, but then heard the reply. "Not worthy to even know you, my mum, dad, or Remus." Sirius smiled at that.

"You've _no_ clue what that means to me, Harry."

"Sirius – I know you came back from the veil because of Dumbledore – but can you promise me that you'll never – ever- do anything like that again?" Concern and hope filled his eyes.

"I promise Harry. I swear – I promise." Sirius' reply was muffled yet clear as Harry buried his face into Sirius' shoulder, and Sirius' face into Harry's head. 

Remus walked over to the two cautiously.

"Hey, Harry – I talked to Dumbledore and I know what happened in Potions – and I'm not mad at you – just concerned. Harry," Remus looked to the floor, and back up again, "what were those poems supposed to mean?"

"What poems? What happened in Potions?" Sirius was curious, yet worried at Remus' tone. So Remus told Sirius all that happened, from the remarks about Sirius snuffing it – where he visibly tensed – to the poems that Remus was so worried about. All the while, Harry was staring longingly out into the mid-afternoon sky.

"Harry – what about those poems – the first one I can understand – well, not really, but – the second one, just well, scared me." He waved his wand and those same words appeared.

****

The red ribbons decorate the cream lengths  
Flowing freely down to the frozen floor  
A body, torn in half, innocence ripped from its soul  
Laying in the thick layer of white ice  
Twisted, wrenched, cold, tangled  
The ribbons wrap themselves around the whole of the pale model  
All innocence lost, taken from one heart, brought into another's  
Unwillingly, at that. Repeatedly, at that.  
Yet deservingly, at that.

Sirius' eyes had tears, and Harry was still gazing out into the clouds.

"Not now, guys. Just – not now. Professor Dumbledore – oh Godric – my journal. WHY did I give them my journal?" Harry's eyes widened in fear and realization. "SHIT!" He turned around to face Dumbledore. "You HAVE to get that back – I swear, if anyone reads that – I have things in there from the – the summers and the times I was at the Dursleys and no one should know about my 'home' life and I have things in there about visions and nightmares I've had and – SIRIUS! I HAVE THINGS IN THERE ABOUT SIRIUS! PROFESSOR, I'M NOT GETTING SIRIUS IN TROUBLE AGAIN! YOU HAVE TO GET THAT BACK!" Harry kept pleading.

"Harry, Harry, please calm down – we will talk about these visions, later, but I cannot get your journal back."

"Just _Accio_ it!"

Seeing that no one would comply, Harry ran all the way down to the Potions classroom, with the Invisibility Cloak tight around him. Remus followed, Sirius being reprimanded by Dumbledore for running out into the corridors as himself, not Snuffles.

Draco, was more confused then he'd ever been. '_Harry's home life? Harry caring about Sirius? Well I know that Black is innocent, because Father talks of Pettigrew so often – but – that poem – oh god, what am I getting myself into – "_

SPOILERS! – What will happen when Dumbledore talks to Malfoy? OBVIOUSLY Dumbledore can see through invisibility spells – duh…And what will Draco say to Harry? What about the Journal? 

HAHA! I'll update soon, fellow friends! 


	5. Just Promise Me

DEAR ME! I've found a buncha mistakes…so pardon me! 

Mistake 1) He said he feared for Snuffles. Isn't snuffles dead (back in that chapter)? Well – yes, he is. So I screwed up. Well, sue me. NONO DON'T! All you'll get is $3.47, a button, and some lint. x[ 

Harry's legs carried him as far as the stairwell back downstairs before the pain hit him. All the scars, bruises, barks – they were all taking a toll on his energy. He got back up slowly and walked a fast as he could with Remus' help. Once he got down to the floor above the dungeons, he saw the class gathered around Ron and Hermione, close behind.

"VISIONS! Hermione, he's been lying to us! I _KNEW_ Mum wasn't kidding! I told you what she'd said at the beginning of the summer – all of the Ministry thinks that Harry's gone complete bonkers since the end of 5th year! He was hearing things, and talking to mirrors, and he trusted a _house elf_!. Mum didn't want to believe it, but then Percy finally came home, and he told Mum and Dad what had happened at Harry's trial, and they _ALL_ think he' connected."

"Connected – like what?"

"God, Dean. You _are_ slow. Connected to _HIM_. Voldemort." Everyone gasped, and Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Yea, that's right. Percy said that he's on a project about curse scars, and that Harry's probably going to go Dark soon. You've all seen how reclusive he's been – he's hiding something, and we all know. And I've got the journal!"  
"Ron – Harry's our friend! How can you say that about him?"

"Herimone! I told you at the beginning of this year that I wanted nothing to do with him, and if we had ditched him full on, it'd have been suspicious. Now we have proof!"

"What proof?" piped Seamus from behind.

"He's been having dreams all summer; he's been seeing You Know Who in his visions. Here! It says," Ron read from the journal to Harry's regret, "'_It feels like I'm so close to talking to him…so close…_" God, guys! He sounds hopeful of being able to talk to him! _Hopeful!_"

"What were you saying about your parents and Percy and stuff?"  
"Oh, right – sorry, Drean. Well, mum was all sad and what-not about Si—the Department of Mysteries thing, and I heard her mutter, '_Potter boy can't stay out of trouble – thinks he can save the world!_" I asked her what she was on about, and she looked at me with hre Weasley eyes and sat me down and spent two bloody hours going on about how he could have gotten me killed – and Gin, and Hermione, and Luna, and Neville, and everyone who was near there. She said that since 2nd year she'd been thinking about what happened to Gin and just realized, sort of suddenly, that it was Harry's fault. I mean, come on! How can we not have seen it? I don't even know _why_ I believed him about You Know Who coming back in 4th year – probably because Dumbledore said so, but _still!_ I started losing faith in him near the end of fourth year, and this is the last straw! God! He's such a lyring arse! He just want's all the damned attention. Oh, boo-hoo, poor Harry Potter has the world on his shoulders –"  
Harry couldn't take much more, but he wasn't the only one.

"Mr. Weasley, I advise you to stop your accusations at once and come with me," Remus stepped in.

"Get away from me, _werewolf_." 

Remus' eyes narrowed. "_THAT_ has nothing to do with what I need to speak to you about."

"Ron – just – give it back, please!" Harry finally took a step forward, and all around him, people backed away.

"YOU'RE CONNECTED TO THE BASTARD! YOU'RE PROBABLY JUST A SPY!"

"RON! HE KILLED MY PARENTS – AND SNUFFLES," Harry added with a kick in the ankle from Remus. "WHY WOULD I SPY FOR HIM?"

Ron rounded on Harry in a frightening manner. "Because you've always wanted the attention, haven't you? You've always bossed Hermione and I around – and you probably want her dead!"

"Ron – that's TOTALLY irrational! Listen to yourself!"

"NO! I won't give you back this journal – I'll read it through and through, and I'll copy it so that every student has a copy. Then maybe you'll get the attention you want!"

"Ron – no, no, no, no – you can't – god, no – you can't!" Harry said, eyes wide with fear.

"LIKE HELL I CAN'T!" Harry was pushed backwards by a punch to the stomach from no other then Ronald Weasley himself.

"RON!" Neville shouted.

"YOU THINK – THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO PARENTS – THAT YOU DESERVE ALL THE PITY AND SORROWFUL GLARES THAT YOU GET – YOU – YOU _bastard_," Ron spat, punching Harry in his stomach and his cheek everytime he paused. Harry was bleeding, but didn't care.

"Ron – you can't read that – I don't care – spread any rumors you want – just _don't – read – my – journal_." By now he was coughing up blood.

Ron's eyes narrowed as he opened the book to any random page.

"_July 7th, 1997. Dudley and his gang went out again - Petunia thinks they're for tea, but I know they're smoking. And I know WHAT they're smoking, too. Dudley was all high and mighty when he came home – literally – and decided to use me for a punching bag. Nothing new there. It really sucks that I have to wait until I'm in my world to use the Cover-up Charm – the neighbors are starting to wonder, especially Mrs. Figg. She's been really nice this summer, with what happened to Snuffles and all. I just told her I fell down the steps, but she knows better. Hell, if she saw all my cuts, she'd Floo Dumbledore with as much fury as she yelled at Mundungus. That still amazes me, though –_ "  
"They _hit_ you, Harry?" Lavender asked, timidly.

"You get boring fast, Potter," came from Ron. 

__

Ron called me Potter. RON called me POTTER, Harry thought.

"August 17th, 1997 –"

"RON NO! GOD, RON, JUST DON'T! IF YOU HAVE ANY SYMPATHY AT ALL FOR ANYONE, YOU WON'T!" Harry was crying again, out of fear.

W_hat's in that entry?_ Draco thought from behind Harry. He knew he should step in and hex Ron to oblivion, but he couldn't move. He was scared of the look in Harry's eyes.

Ron's eyes scanned the page, first with pure disgust on his face, then a slight smile, and then a pure smirk.

"That really happened, Potter?" Harry nodded slowly, eyes still wide. "You deserved it. You deserved that ten times over, and everything more. Every bit of pain he caused you – I'd give it to you again, and again. Just – not in that way – can't have me dirtying myself up, can we?"

"Harry – what –" Neville was the one to ask the question.

"_EXPILLIARMUS! STUPEFY! ACCIO JOURNAL!_" came a call from behind Harry. Ron's wand left his hand and he dropped to the floor, stupefied.

"_STUPEFY!"_ someone called again, and Hermione was on the floor. Harry didn't dare turn around to see the speaker – he just walked to the nearest window and stared out. Birds, fox's, clouds – 

"Get out of here! There's nothing to see! Go to your next class, and tell them we won't be there. GO!" Harry heard.

"Po-Harry? Harry, are you okay?" came a somewhat gentle voice from the same spot. Malfoy. Harry closed his eyes, and let all the hidden teardrops fall. He was crying for shame; crying for shame and guilt.

_I DID deserve it. What a self-centered bastard I've been. Every. Single. Bit. I can't believe I let Figg tell me it wasn't my fault. This is my entire fault!_ Harry choked out a sob, which Malfoy didn't seem to hear. 

Harry turned around, and Malfoy was shocked to see his whole face tearstreaked. Draco stepped back, then forward to Harry.

"Harry? Harry – are – you're bleeding – I'll get that –" Draco put up a hand as to brush away Harry's hair and tend ot the gash in his head, but Harry just turned away.

"Forget it. It's nothing," he said, barely audible.

"No, cmon, that's gotta be deep – it's gotta hurt –"

"Its. _Nothing,_" Harry emphasized. Really, it wasn't anything to any other kind of hurt Harry'd every felt - especially not that of the recent events.

WHEEE!!! Okay –that one was fun!

STUPID, STUPID RON! ***whacks over head***

He'll explain himself later, though – weird, righT?

SPOILERS! 

"Ever had everything you ever had, wanted, or needed taken away?"

"No –"

"Been rape—" Harry's eyes got wide. "Wait – I didn't mean that one. Sorry –"

Draco was astounded. Why would Harry ask that? Unless – "Has anyone every WHAT?"

"Nothing – nothing –" 


	6. They Must Worship Him

Here we go, next chapter, ahoy…**PLEASE REVIEW**!

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mean a flashback.  
  
mean a scene change.

"No, cmon, that's gotta be deep – it's gotta hurt –"

"Its. _Nothing,_" Harry emphasized. Really, it wasn't anything to any other kind of hurt Harry'd every felt - especially not that of the recent events. Draco walked nearer to Harry, touching his shoulder.

"Get _off_ me. I don't need your help any more then I needed Ron to read that out loud." That was a lie if he ever heard one. _ALL_ he needed was Draco – that's it. Everything else could go to hell.

"Potter – look – I can read this and fuck up your head, or I can give it back."

"Yes, that could be a way of putting it, as is I could also _let_ you read it and then I wouldn't do anything about it because everyone will just realize that I deserved what I got, or you can give it back and try to act like the good person that I know you're not. You're just like him, aren't you? Just like that bastard. Lucius fucking Malfoy. Him and his fucking sister killed me that day." 

"Po – Harry – I'm not like him."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "How do I know that? All my life I've been lied to, and now, here's my arch nemesis telling me that he's not like the man who made him; the man who KILLED MY PARENTS AND RUINED ALL HOPES OF ANY SORT OF HAPPINESS!"

"WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME? I'M – NOT – LIKE – HIM!"

"You didn't really understand those poems, did you? It's not JUST your father I'm mad at, but the world," Harry continued, looking out into the now evening sky. "The wizarding world, and the Muggle world. They've put me through hell. Total and complete hell."

"Yeah, well you're not the only one."

Harry turned around. "Have you been abused?"

"Yes."

"Mentally?"

"Yes."

"Physically?"

"Yes."

"Starved?"

"Somewhat."

"Beaten to an inch of your life?"

"Well – not really – "

"Gone from 125 pounds to 85 in 2 weeks?"

"What?? No –"

"Been hated with every fiber of ones body?"

"I don't think so – "

"Ever had everything you ever had, wanted, or needed taken away?"  
"No -"  
"Been rape-" Harry's eyes got wide. "Wait - I didn't mean that one. Sorry -"  
Draco was astounded. Why would Harry ask that? Unless - "Has anyone every WHAT?"  
"Nothing - nothing -"  
"Wait – were you –"  
"NO!"

"Potter –" Draco was speechless. Was he? Had he been – he didn't know what to think.

"Look, I was just asking to see if you had been, okay?" No reply, just a stare. "Give me the journal now. I swear I'll Obliviate you."

Draco dropped the notebook at his feet never taking his eyes off of Harry's.

"Harry-"

"It's still Potter to you – nothing's changed but me. None of this happened, I never talked with you now, and you're going to keep this within you. You cannot – will not tell anyone what just happened here," Harry stopped, closed his mind, and breathed deeply. He opened his eyes again, and said in an almost pleadingly and strained voice, "Please, Draco. I don't know what I'm going to do, but this encounter between you and me will have never happened to anyone else, okay? You tell your friends that you beat me around; had yourself a little duel, and that's where I got all of these bruises, okay?"

"I'll tell the Slytherins what I can to cover, but – what about your friends?"

Harry narrowed his eyes in a way that looked scary for a moment, but they then softened. He laughed, and looked at the floor with a very far away feeling to himself. "I have no friends to tell anything, but I have everything to tell no one." And with that, Harry Potter was gone.

Harry strode down the hall carefully yet quickly. He'd rushed down the tower stairs only to find that his legs now ached. _Where the hell can I go now?_ Harry thought. _Ah. The usual spot._

Harry walked slower to a room on the farthest end of Hogwarts, in the highest tower. He opened the door and saw – Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore – I – Sorry, I shouldn't be here – I'll go –"

"No, no, my boy. This is where you'll be staying! Get comfortable here, and – oh, dear me. It's slipped my mind to tell you, Harry – I've heard of what went on near the dungeons earlier, and I must say that I'm most disappointed in Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore had a sad look in his eyes. "That's not something that a Gryffindor as himself would do…"

"Wait – You think he wasn't – himself?"

"OH! No, no, no. Mr. Weasley has not been possessed – we would be able to tell, hmm? Yet I'm just a bit curious as to _why_ he was so happy from what happened on that date that you didn't want him to read – can you tell me what it said, Harry?"

Harry looked down to his feet, remembering the incident.   
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"GET DOWN HERE, BOY!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry trudged down the steps, with his wand tucked in-between his pants and his knickers – just in case. Well, that case was today. But he wouldn't be able to use his wand.

"Get over here – spot check." Vernon searched Harry for any weapons – and found his wand.

"WHAT'S THIS FOR? PLANNING TO USE YOUR – YOUR ABNORMABILITY ON ME? I DON'T THINK SO! WE PUT A SHELTER OVER YOUR HEAD, CLOTHES ON YOUR BACK, FOOD ON YOUR PLATE, AND YOU **THREATEN **US? THREATEN **ME**, MORE IMPORTANTLY!" Vernon was now red in the face. "You'll pay for this one, boy," he snarled.

Vernon proceeded to punch, kick, slap, and beat Harry in any way possible with any weapons within reach. Harry pleaded with Vernon to stop, and pleaded with the only other people he thought would listen – Sirius, his mum, and dad – for Vernon to NOT go into the kitchen. Just his luck.

Vernon came back in with a knife in his hand – not a huge butcher knife, one that was small enough to look innocent but sharp enough to make you wet yourself. It glinted in the light as Harry realized what it was for.

"Please – please, Vernon, please - " He was silenced as Vernon brought it right up to Harry's neck, and had a very threatening look in his eyes – one that made Harry's blood go cold.

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What had come next still brought tears to his eyes

"N-no, Professor – I can't. Sorry –"

"No, Harry. Some things are meant to be secret and personal – but there _are_ people who care, you know that, yes?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore." Harry was lying through his teeth, and they both knew it.

"So have you ever been to this part of the school, Harry?" Harry snapped out of his thoughts abruptly.

"Oh – yes – I wasn't really supposed to – but I come here sometimes to just – think and be alone – and I won't come anymore if I'm not supposed to, but-"

"No, no, Harry. Quite the contrary. This – will be where you'll be staying! I hope it's fine for you, because it's the only room that I haven't found occupied by students late at night – ahem, well – take a look around. Like the changes?"

Harry gasped. The room that he'd known as a deserted classroom was now furnished, carpeted, painted, and with a blazing fire.

"Professor – surely you didn't do this for my needing a place to stay –"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

Harry was shocked – that itself was an understatement if he'd ever heard one. 

"Harry, come here. Is there anything you'd like to know – I personally know that all that we've put upon you today must have had a great impact."

"Well – yeah. _What_ in the name of bloody hell just happened?"

Dumbledore slightly chuckled, "Ah, yes. Well, you revealed some emotions of utmost 'worry-worthy-ness,' as Mr. Black so articulately put it, in Potions. You've had the last link to your late parents brought back from the Middle World –"

"The _what?_"

"In time, Harry. You've been betrayed by almost your whole house, and the rest it yet to come," he finished gravely."

"_Almost_ my whole house?"

"Mr. Longbottom is an extremely passionate person when it comes to secrecy. He understands your situations rather well, I must say."

_Right – like anyone could understand,_ Harry thought.

"Yeah, maybe I'll talk to him if I see him. Wait – no – Professor, I know it's kind of – well, rude, but could you do me a favor?"

"Why, of course!"

"Do – do you think you could ask Neville to come up to here –like, this room? I don't know what'll happen if I go back to the common room – I don't want to think about it, either," Harry added with slight black humor in his voice.

"Certainly, Harry. Get comfortable, here! Well, I must be off. Besides contacting Mr. Longbottom, I have some rather important to attend to. Ah, yes! The password! Tap the painting three times, say your full name, and 'yexus impods,' then the password. So long, Harry!"

"Yeah – bye Professor." Harry was about to open his trunk, which was already there, when Dumbledore popped back in with a paper bag in his hands.

"Mind my manners, Harry! Care for a lemon drop?" Harry just shook his head with a small smile. I'll never understand him, Harry thought, unpacking his robes.

Bloody hell, what have I done, Draco thought. A million and one things were running through his mind_. Harry's depressed. We've got that. Check. Sirius is innocent. I've known that forever. Check. Harry may be suicidal. Check. Sirius is Harry's godfather. Obviously – who else would Potter senior trust?? Check, anyway._ Draco could feel his hate for Harry decreasing ever so slowly. He remembered so clearly what'd gone on.

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"Have you been abused?"

"Yes."

"Mentally?"

"Yes."

"Physically?"

"Yes."

"Starved?"

"Somewhat

"Beaten to an inch of your life?"

"Well – not really – "

"Gone from 125 pounds to 85 in 2 weeks?"

"What?? No –"

"Been hated with every fiber of ones body?"

"I don't think so – "

"Ever had everything you ever had, wanted, or needed taken away?"  
"No -"  
"Been rape- Wait - I didn't mean that one. Sorry…"

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Had Harry been raped? Who would rape the Boy Who Lived! And the venom in his voice –

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"It's still Potter to you – nothing's changed but me. None of this happened, I never talked with you now, and you're going to keep this within you. You cannot – will not tell anyone what just happened here - Please, Draco. I don't know what I'm going to do, but this encounter between you and me will have never happened to anyone else, okay? You tell your friends that you beat me around; had yourself a little duel, and that's where I got all of these bruises, okay?"

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The last part had most definitely been pleadingly said, but Draco hadn't noticed it at the time_. Why do I even care if he gets pissed or not?_ Draco was worried. That was it. _Worried – ha_' Yes, he was worried about Harry Potter. He was beginning to think that he wanted to be friends with Potter – but to do that, he had to be on the Light side.

He pushed that out of his head and thought about all that he knew about Harry's home life_. He can't have it that bad – he's the freaking Boy-Who-Won't-Stop-Living! The muggles must worship him! Except for his parents and Cedric and all of that – bloody hell, no one should have to deal with any of that_…Draco thought, oblivious to his visitor.  
"Mr. Malfoy, a word, please," Dumbledore said, after having watched the blonde boy stare out the same window Harry had with a thoughtful expression. Draco swallowed, and tried to regain his composure once again. 

YAY! Another chapter done!


	7. Fate Laid Ahead

****

Please review, I need ego boosters. Boy, is my self esteem losing to my self consciousness…  
Please review, I don't know if I should continue…

WHEN WE LAST SAW THEM!!!

"Mr. Malfoy, a word, please," Dumbledore said, after having watched the blonde boy stare out the same window Harry had with a thoughtful expression.

Draco swallowed, and tried to regain his composure once again.

"Yes Professor," Draco said, and followed Dumbledore to his office. Once there, the elder asked Draco to sit down.

"Draco, as you know, I'm Order of Merlin, First Class. Besides doing many great deeds for the community, do you know what power you must learn to become that?"

"No, sir."

"The ability to see through any invisibility cloak – and invisibility spell," he added, looking at Draco from over his glasses. _Good bloody god_, Draco thought.

"Sir, I promise I won't tell anyone what happened – or what I heard – I just-"

"No problem there, Draco. But," Dumbledore said, "I believe you to be trustworthy. I think it's my duty to explain to you some things that went on tonight. Care for tea?"

"No thank you, sir."

"Very well. I know nothing of the emotions that Mr. Potter showed during Potions class, but I do know that the acts that Mr. Weasley had shown when you arrived were most atrocious. I will be speaking with him about that behavior, yes – ah, back on track. I think I'll be short and to the point. Mr. Sirius Black is innocent. The Ministry wants proof and I cannot give it to them, so for now, there's no hope of his innocence being proven. He _is_ Harry's godfather, and right now, he, Mr. Lupin and myself seem to be the only people he trusts – I hope. Last year, during Harry's battle at the Department of Mysteries, Sirius Black was killed, but, as you heard, I have found a way to bring him back. Mind you, he wasn't really dead, just in somewhere called the Middle World– well, that's how it's said in English. It's one of the many places named with an ancient language that's been forgotten for so many years. Such a shame – it was terribly beautiful. Only certain people can use it – the word chooses the speaker."

"The word? Not the language?"

"Ah, yes, my apologies. You learn that you have the capability to speak this language when you're trying to say one word, but it comes out as the translation in Hithido – well, that's the one name for the language, the simpler one. Such a shame that it's been lost…it only comes to those who have soulmates."

"Can you speak it, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore smiled a true, heartfelt smile. "Yes, Draco, I can."

"Er, if I may, who's your soulmate?"

"You'd really wish to know?" Draco nodded, and Dumbledore looked blissfully happy. "As much of a shock as it may or may not be, Professor McGonagall and I are very much in love," the Professor continued, still smiling.  
"Can't say I didn't see it, sir. But congratulations and best wishes in life – even though it may be a little past the time for that –"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Thank you, Draco. I appreciate it. Where were we? Ah, yes, soulmates. There have only been a few pairs of soulmates that have come to Hogwarts, and maybe 500 pairs in the world, meaning 1,000 people all together."  
"Sir, can – can you tell me who some of the soulmates were?"  
"Why, of course. Well, there was Gefen Ronden and Janet Guiden who were one year above me – they were both good friends - and many, many others…I don't recall many of the names, but there was, of course, your parents."

"M-my parents?" Draco asked incredulously.  
"Why, yes."

"But Professor, my parents are –" and Draco couldn't finish that sentence. What _were_ his parents? _They were – they were soulmates – but they never said they loved each other – they never showed any affection…Father was always out with – out with Voldemort, making – making plans to kill people – to torture people._ The realization his Draco like he never thought it could. _My father – he's Voldemorts right-hand man. And I – I'm going to be just like him. I – he – he was still Voldermort's follower when I was a baby – when – oh, God, my father – I' m going to be _that_…And have to put people through all of _that? _I – I…_ Draco had never felt so nervous in his life. _How can I have never seen this? I've been such an oblivious _asshole_! I always knew he was in with Voldemort – but he – he really wants me to become what he is…_Draco shuddered. His brow furrowed as he thought. How_ can I have missed this? He's done everything and anything that Voldemort every asked him to – anythi—"_

"Professor –" Draco's eyes were wide, fearful, and downcast. He swallowed – "He did that, didn't he."

"Did what, Draco?"

"My father – he killed his parents, didn't he."

"Whose parents?"

Draco's voice was tight with emotion. "You _know_ whose parents." His eyes searched the floor for some answer, but found none.

"Yes, Draco. Your father was present, and was the one to persuade Peter Pettigrew into turning to Voldemort."

"C-can I sit down?" Draco asked, realizing he'd stood up in shock.

"Yes, yes, go ahead." Dumbledore conjured another, more comfortable chair. Draco sank into it, lost in his thoughts. _He was – he _is_ so miserable – and my father…my _father _was the one who put him through all of this torment…he killed – he killed his parents – and so many more…but what do I care?? He's Harry bloody Potter, I don't care if he's happy or not – if he's an orphan or not – if…_

If he's lonely or not…

I need t—  
"Professor – I can't…" Draco said with a shaky voice

"Can't what, Mr. Malfoy?" Dumbledore looked concerned.

"Do that – be him – kill—god, I can't even _say_ it without feeling guilty…"

"Draco, what's the matter?" 

Draco looked up at Headmaster and saw a chance. An opportunity. A way to get himself out of the hole he was born to fall into.

"I can't follow in my father's footsteps. I – I don't want to do…" Draco trailed off. What didn't he want to do? Meet Voldemort? Be a Death Eater? "I don't want _anyone_ to ever feel what he's felt. I can only imagine what he thinks – how he feels…no, I _can't_ imagine how he feels, and that's what bothers me. I – I don't want to kill people, I don't want to rip apart families, I don't want people to live sheltered lives, and I don't want people to lost trust in everyone because all they've been told is lies…" Draco whispered the last, and looked up with sad eyes to the older man. "I don't want to be a Death Eater – a follower of Voldemort – I think I want t—I think I _need_ to be on the Light Side."

Professor Dumbledore looked at Draco, confusion apparent.

"For once, in many, many years, I am speechless."

"Uh – sorry.."

"Nothing at _all _to apologize for, but I want you to go back to wherever you go to think, and do just that. Think _long and hard_ about this. Come back after dinner so that we can discuss this, yes?"

"Y-yes, Headmaster." 

Dumbledore got up to walk Draco to the door. Before letting him leave, Dumbledore took Draco's hands, and said, "If this is really, _truly_ what you feel is necessary, then I want you to think of the consequences. You'll be putting yourself in a _lot_ of danger, Mr. Malfoy. And if you chose to stay with your father – I may have to Obliviate you of recent conversations, okay?"

"Yes, sir. Good afternoon."

Draco walked back to the room that Severus had had put in for him especially, He had a lot on his mind – and more then he wanted to believe of it was guilt. Draco sighed and sank down into the window sill seat, rubbing his eyes.  
_This is going to be more complicated then I thought…_


	8. Reassurance

**I STRONLY SUGGEST that while you read this, if you have it, put on the 3AM acoustic version by Matchbox Twenty! Email me at savannahcgearthlink.net if you want a copy – it's definitely worth it! And then I'll send it to you and you can listen to it while you read =]**  
  
                "Yeah – bye Professor." Harry was about to open his trunk, which was already there, when Dumbledore popped back in with a paper bag in his hands.

"Mind my manners, Harry! Care for a lemon drop?" Harry just shook his head with a small smile. I'll never understand him, Harry thought, unpacking his robes. He was almost through when he heard a knock at the painting.  
                "Er – come in? Oh, yeah, _'Portrait, escort the guest within._" The painting opened to reveal McGonagall. She looked at Harry with inquiring eyes.

"Mr. Po – Harry, you have a visitor."

"But no one's supposed to be able to see this place!"

"Which is why I'm escorting him."

"Uh, right. Sure."  
                In walked Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley close behind.  


Draco walked back to the room that Severus had had put in for him especially, He had a lot on his mind – and more then he wanted to believe of it was guilt. Draco sighed and sank down into the window sill seat, rubbing his eyes.  
                _This is going to be more complicated then I thought…  
                _Draco stared out into the open sky as Harry had done before.  
                _God, does everything always come right back down to Potter?_

He laughed sadly, not knowing what to think, what to do, who to tell, or who to go to. A few house members knew he was gay, as did Severus, but that was all. He'd never really felt comfortable telling anyone anything – he had a good sense of who to trust with _large_ things as such, and pondering telling those students and Severus brought him to the conclusion that they weren't the right people.  
                Draco walked over to his piano and sat down, beginning a song he'd written a while ago.

_"She said its cold outside,  
                She hands me my raincoat.  
                She's always worried bout things like that.  
                She said it's all gonna end,  
                Might as well be my fault.  
                And she only sleeps when its raining,_

_And she screams, but her voice is strained…  
                And she says…"  
                _Draco smiled, playing the next few bars, thinking about when he'd written this song.  
                _"Baby, it's __three AM__, I must be lonely.  
                Well she says baby, I can't help but be scared of it all,_

_Sometimes, but the rains gonna wash it away, I believe it…"_  
                Draco continued, feeling tears burn his eyes. His piano's voice got louder, giving the words a point.

"_She's got a little bit of something, God it's better than nothing…_

_In the color of portrait world, she believes that she's got it all…  
                She swears the moon don't hang quite as high as it used to,  
                And she only sleeps when its raining,  
                And screams, but her voice is strained,_

_And she says,_"

Draco could barely stop for the small interlude, so just continued.  
                _"Baby, it's __three AM__, I must be lonely_

_And yeah but she says baby,  
                I can't help but be scared of it all,_

_Sometimes, but the rains gonna wash it away, I believe…_"  
                Letting a single tear slide down his pale cheek, Draco went on to his most emotional part.  
                _"She believes that life, is made up of all that she used to.  
                And the clock on the wall has been stuck at three for days, and days._

_She thinks that happiness is a map that sits on her doorway,"_

Draco could feel his own voice get louder as it was meant to be.  
                _"But outside, it starts raining…  
                And, oh, she says, baby,_

_Its __three AM__ I must be lonely,_

_Well, heaven, she says baby, I can't help but be scared of it all,_

_Sometimes, and the rain gonna wash away, I believe it, yeah._"

Draco put all emotion he withheld into that ending, meaning his words more than ever.

_"Its three AM, I must be lonely, lonely,_

_Yeah, well she says baby, _

_Baby, well I can't help but be scared of it all_

_Sometimes, and the rains gonna wash away, I believe this…"_

Draco laughed silently and wiped away his tears, and ran his fingers on the ivory keys of the grand piano he'd bought for himself. Music was his passion. Not only his own music, but others, too. He walked to the chest of drawers he had, and took out a muggle CD player he used constantly. Putting in the CD he'd magically compiled himself, he pressed play, and sat down on the couch, ready to sleep. A beautiful, slow acoustic version of _Iris_ by _The Goo Goo Dolls_ came on, and he bit back tears again.

_"And I'd give up forever to touch you,_

_Cause I know that you feel me somehow…"_  


In walked Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley close behind.  
                Harrys breath hitched – he didn't know what to do.

Actually, he didn't have to do much. Ginny Weasley threw herself at Harry, crying into his shoulders. Harry instinctively wrapped his arms around her smaller frame, not wanting to let another friend slip away. In a few minutes time, she pulled back, eyes tearstained and red.

"Harry – I don't kn-know what's going on – I swear it – I don't think you did _anything_ wrong! I _know_ you'd _never_ do anything like – like _kill_ someone, and you'd _never_ join _them_! I know it! I do!" Ginny began to cry again, and Harry frowned. He sat her down on a couch, letting her regain himself. Harry then looked up to Neville who looked horrible – emotionally. Physically, he'd grown into himself more over the summer, and Harry laughed inside thinking of what a gangly-in-a-sense kind of kid Neville had been the previous year.

"Harry – I'm really, _really_ sorry. I'm with Gin on this one – you deserve none of this…" Neville let the thought trail off, and instead of responding, Harry just pulled Neville into a brotherly hug. It felt good to have reassurance, from anyone, at that.  
                Harry took a second to relive the days events, and slowly sat down on the carpet. He stared into the fire for a moment before breaking down; totally, utterly, and completely.  
  
                Sorry it took so long to get this one up! Hmm, what're my excuses…I have none xD

                It'd mean an uber-lot to me if you'd check out _this_ story… Harry P & the story that I want u 2 PLEASE REVIEW! cause it's awesome! It's by my best friend Olivia, and she likes reviews. =] As do I!  
  
                Reviews, monsouier?  
  
                Teaser for chapter nine!

"Mr. Malfoy – do you know what you're doing?"

Draco's eyes widened then narrowed. "Yes, of course I do. I've thought rather long and hard – not counting many sleepless nights – about this and I know it's what I need to do. And I do have a reason – I just – can't tell you. Would that be acceptable?"


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